The End of the Trials (Rewrite!)
by Alliprince
Summary: (Rewritten version) It was done. They were finished. The Gladers had won, yet lost at the same time. And now, Thomas and Minho, some of the only Gladers left, have found Paradise and started anew. But what happens when everything they know, everything that has happened to them, turns out to be yet another trick from WICKED? (Rated T for strong elements. Don't own the awesome cover)
1. 1: The beginning of the end

Chapter one

The beginning of the end

It was over. Finally, after three years, it was _over_. They had solved The Maze. Completed the Scorch Trials. And finished the Death Cure. They had won. And never again would any of them have to fight another Griever, Crank or WICKED employee.

With a soft smile Thomas stared out at the sunset before him, feet dangling off the edge of the cliff. Brenda was next to him, snuggling into his chest. Minho was already taking control of the survivors. Creating searching parties for food, getting people to start building shelters and so on. WICKED was behind them and the future looked shucking brilliant.

"There are over two hundred of us and we're all immune. It'll be a good start."

Thomas looked over at her, suspicious at how sure she sounded—like she knew something he didn't. "What's that supposed to mean?"

She leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. "Nothing. Nothing at all."

Thomas put it all out of his mind and pulled her closer as the last wink of the suns' light vanished below the horizon…

_And then he woke up._

With a gasp he shot up, glancing around wildly. Soft grey blankets were tucked tightly around his lower body. An IV was stuck in his arm, unknown orange liquid being sucked through the tube. Suction cups stuck to his chest. A monitor beside him beeped urgently. A helmet with bits and pieces of metal sticking out of it was strapped firmly to his head.

"Shuck," he hissed to himself as he ripped the needle from his arm, a small bead of blood forming where it had previously been. His heart pounded. With a grunt he yanked off the suction cups, jumping from the bed, his feet slapping against the cold tiled floor. He practically tore the helmet off of his head.

_Silence. _

The urgent beeping had been suppressed. A shiver raced up Thomas's spine as he slowly took a step forward. His legs felt like jelly, his entire body shaking as he leaned against the table. Why was he suddenly so weak? Where did Brenda go? Had the entire thing been a shucking dream? Why was the room spinning? Where the heck was he?

"Dylan, I see that you're awake."

A short yelp of surprise pushed itself from Thomas's mouth as he spun around. A woman was sitting there, eyes focused on a Newspaper in her hands.

"Who are you?" Dylan asked with a glare, taking a step back. Had it always been this hard to breathe?

"A friend," she stated mysteriously as she turned the page, a smirk gracing her cherry red lips. "I'd sit back down in the bed if I were you. After all, your legs have barely been used in the last three years."

Thomas narrowed his eyes as he struggled to remain standing. Who the heck was this woman? Was WICKED involved? So far she didn't seem to pose any threat, but, then again, it could just be a trick.

"Where am I?" Thomas demanded, trying to sound tougher than he felt. It wasn't exactly working.

"A hospital," the woman put down her newspaper as she crossed her legs and gently placed her hands in her lap. "Now, sit down Dylan."

"My name isn't Dylan," Thomas stated as he took another step backwards. "It's Thomas."

The woman sighed as she pushed some midnight black hair behind her ear, glancing around the room as she debated on what to say.

"Alright then," she stated as she stood up, dusting off her knee high white skirt. "Thomas, please take a seat. I'll be sure to answer all of your questions once you do."

To trust, or not to trust? That was the question. They would probably kill him if he did trust them, although, thinking about it now, if they had wanted him dead he probably already would be. With a frown he cautiously made his way back to his bed, sitting on the very edge. He'd be ready if he needed to make a run for it.

"I'll start off with this," the woman stated as she walked to the end of the room and leaned against the door. "Your real name is Dylan O'Brien and everything you just experienced, The Maze, the Scorch Trials, everything was a computer simulation. Now, before you say anything or bombard me with questions, let me explain."

The woman took a moment to gather herself, reaching over and handing Thomas the newspaper. He briefly glanced it over, eyes narrowing as he read.

"**Cure found by mapping the Killzones of Teenagers!**"

"**Teenagers create cure with help of Doctor Janson.**"

"**The World has been saved by the Youths!**"

"You saved us," the woman whispered, bringing Thomas's attention back to her. "You were put into the simulation because of the Flare. It was a much safer and more logical way to map your killzones. And you did it."

"H-how-" Thomas shook his head and the woman held up a hand, shushing him.

"I'm not done explaining," She reprimanded sternly. "I'm not going to go into detail on the Flare, you practically know everything about it already. After all, we didn't want you emerging from the simulation, not knowing the basics. The sun did scorch the land, and Cranks did appear. But now we have a cure."

She gave a small smile, sitting down once more into the chair.

"Now, let's get into details," she clapped her hand once and pulled out a notebook, clearing her throat. "Everyone you met in the simulation was either a computer AI, or another Diver, like you. Oh, uh, Divers are the name we have for whoever went into the Simulation. For example, everyone you met in the Glade is a Diver. All of you volunteered to go into the simulation, despite the side effects—"

"Side effects?" Thomas blurted out.

"I'll get into that, now shush!" The woman narrowed her eyes as she pursed her lips in irritation. "As I was saying… You all volunteered to enter the simulation, despite the known side effects. Now, each Diver would have some sort of side-effect once they left the simulation. It could be Paranoia, Muscle Atrophy, even extreme dizziness. It all depends on what you went through in the simulation. The more trauma you experienced in there, the more side-effects you will end up having."

The strange woman let this sink in, quietly fishing out an electronic tablet.

"How can I trust you? How do I know what you're saying is the truth?" Thomas accused as he narrowed his eyes. Quietly, the woman handed over the device, a small play button appearing on the screen. Thomas hesitated, finger hovering over the electronic for five seconds until finally he pushed it.

"Hello, my name is Dylan O'Brien, and I work for WICKED."


	2. 2: Wish we could be safe

**Chapter Two **

**Wish we could be safe**

_"Hello, my name is Dylan O'Brien, and I work for WICKED."_

Thomas's breath hitched as he stared back at a much younger version of himself, eyes widening. He worked for WICKED. He was the enemy. The bad guy.

"_When you come out of the simulation, you're going to be confused. You'll be weak, dizzy, and probably have trust issues. Basically, I'm just explaining things so you, or we, won't freak when we come out_," Dylan paused, running a hand through his long hair. "_I'm just about to Dive In, as they call it, so I'll summarize what's going on_."

Thomas glanced at the mysterious woman with a suspicious glare before turning his attention back to the screen.

"_Our parents are dead. They were taken by the Flare a couple years ago. It was really nasty so I'm not gonna go into it. Anyway, they were taken by the Flare so we ran, taking our younger brother, Blake, and fled to WICKED_ where they gave us shelter and a way to be safe from Cranks. By the time we got there, they already knew that some of the youth was naturally resistant, so we got in pretty easily."

"_And they'd already come up with the simulation, a way to map our brain patterns and so on. In fact, they'd already run three different trials, all coming back with little to no useful information. Eventually, we got tired of waiting around for a cure and for other people doing everything for us, so we decided to step up and do something about it. Blake and we…_" Dylan paused, frowning as he glanced to the ceiling. "_Us? Is it Blake and Us?... Blake and I? Yeah, okay, Blake and I are going to go into the simulation together, along with some of the guys. They're going to have to wipe our memories, so that they won't clash with the ones we get in the simulation. That had happened in the first test run they did…"_

Dylan paused with a small frown, staring off into the distance as a horrid memory came up.

"_Yeah, that wasn't pretty… Anyway, they've done nothing outside of the simulation to sway our trust so I am urging you to just go along with it for now. Don't try to run or escape. Just be cool. They'll tell you everything that you want to know. Ask about your brother, your friends… They have a record of everyone's past, in case you want to go looking in there too…"_

Finally, Dylan stopped talking, giving another sigh as he wiped his hands on his pants.

"_Well, I think that's everything_," the boy then gave a small wave, a ghost of a smile appearing on his face. "_This is Dylan O'Brien, signing off._"

The small electronic device turned off, the screen going black. Thomas gave a small scoff. All of that information, in a little less than three minutes. How was he supposed to process all of this? '_Don't try to run or escape'_? Yeah, _that_ was comforting. And he had a brother. His parents were dead. He'd volunteered. All of it was just so overwhelming.

"Come on, Dylan," the woman stated as she stood up, stretching her limbs with a small groan. "No time to rest. We've got work to do."

* * *

Thomas sat silently in the wheelchair as the woman pushed him down the hall. She had been most insistent that he sit in it, because of 'Muscle Atrophy'. And it was true. His legs looked like pencils, his arms as skinny as broom handles.

"Tell me about my brother," Thomas demanded, glancing up at the woman with a stern expression.

"Not yet," was her short reply. Thomas narrowed his eyes in suspicion as he crossed his arms, staring up at her.

"The recording said I could ask you anything and you'd answer," he argued.

"And I will. Just not yet."

He let out a small huff of frustration.

"Tell me about my parents," he tried again as they turned the corner into yet another porcelain white hallway.

"Not yet."

"How about the other Divers?"

"Not yet."

The same cold and uninformative reply. Thomas clasped his hands in his lap as he thought, glaring at nothing in particular. He would get his answers. No matter what. But how should he go about getting them? Should he ask them with carefully thought out words? Or perhaps a million questions a minute? With a firm expression he once again looked up to the woman, determination in his eyes.

"Tell me where I am."

"Not yet."

"Tell me how many nurses work here."

"Not yet."

"Tell me what my brother's name is."

"Not. Yet."

"Tell me everything you know."

"Dylan—"

"Tell me if Ratman was an AI. Tell me WICKEDS plan."

"No, Dylan—"

"Tell me where the exit is."

"Not yet, you have too—"

"Tell me how many bones I'd break if I jumped out the nearest window."

"Why on _earth_ would you jump—"

"Tell me if Teresa is alive. Tell me the side effects I got!"

"Can you _just_—"

"Tell me—"

"_Hush_!" The woman stopped rolling Thomas and stomped her foot, her heal creating a loud click as it made contact with the floor. Thomas stopped with a frown.

"Why can't you answer any of my questions?" He asked with a small growl.

"_Because_," the woman dragged out in exasperation. "If I answered all of your questions right away it would send you right into a panic attack. After your examination with the Doctors, and after we determine what your side effects are, alright? Then we will tell you."

Thomas turned back around, keeping a smug smile off his face. She'd finally answered one of his questions. Moments later the two turned the corner into a small indoor garden. Brightly colored roses lined the walkway, water could be heard gurgling from a small stream, and different birds were squawking away up in the trees. Thomas's mouth formed a small 'o' shape as he was rolled under a pavilion, vines creeping up the pillars gracefully.

"Now, let's wait for your doctor," the woman let a small, content sigh as she sat down in a chair, kicking her legs out as she smiled. Thomas frowned as he glanced around. He would assume that when meeting ones doctor, you would be in a check-up room or something like that. Perhaps this was to create a peaceful aurora, as to not panic the patient when bad news stuck. They sat there in silence before Thomas realized something. Not once had the woman mentioned her name.

"What's your name?" Thomas asked quietly. The woman glanced at Thomas, a smirk playing at her lips.

"You are _incredibly_ curious, you know that?" she responded with an amused tone.

"Don't avoid the question."

"Fine," the woman shrugged as she sat up straighter, glancing around. "My name is Head Nurse Raven, and you will address me as such."

Thomas paused, quirking an eyebrow as he crossed his arms once more.

"Like the bird?" he finally asked, an icy glare coming over the Head Nurses face as a response, successfully silencing him. Apparently it was a touchy topic.

"Ah, hello Dylan, Head Nurse Raven. Ready for your check up?"

Thomas's eyes widened, hands clenching the side of the wheelchair. How was he here? How the _shucking_ heck was _he_ _here_? He knew this place wasn't safe. He _knew_ it! And yet he had still trusted them like a complete idiot. Subtly Thomas looked around for something, anything that could be used as a weapon. This man was dangerous. He was a freaking Psychopath. He had to be dealt with immediately.

"Dylan," Head Nurse Raven spoke softly as Ratman sat down next to her dressed in a white lab coat, spectacles on the tip of his nose. "This is Dr. Janson. You won't remember him because—"

It was at that moment that Thomas spotted a nearby rock around the size of his fist. Within seconds it was flying out of his hand and smacking against Ratmans skull. The man let out a groan of pain as he slid to the floor, blood trickling down his temple.

"Dylan!" The woman stood up, shock clear in her eyes as Thomas picked up another rock, aimed and fired. Unfortunately for Thomas, the nurse had the sense to dodge out of the way. Although he hadn't hit his target, it still gave him a distraction to get out. To escape. With a grunt Thomas pushed himself to his feet and ran.

"No—_Oh, for Pete's sake_," the woman muttered as Thomas turned the corner and out of the garden. With a small grunt, Raven pushed herself to her feet, a string of hair falling into her face.

"Ugh, what happened?" Dr. Janson asked as he sat up, rubbing his head with a groan. "I feel like someone hit me in the head with a rock."

"Why do they always run?" The Nurse growled in irritation as she pulled out a walkie-talkie and angrily pressed down on a button. "Security requested at section five, floor thirty. Over."

* * *

Thomas was weak. Even though this was the truth, Thomas despised this fact with every aching bone in his body. He'd only managed to get through one hallway before he had to stop, find a hiding place and rest. In this state he wasn't getting out of here any time soon.

Not only was this stressing him, but Ratman was alive as well! Couldn't that guy just die?

"You choke a guy to death and you'd _think_ he'd stay _dead_," Thomas thought angrily as he leaned against the wall, eyes searching around the dark broom closet for a weapon. As you'd guess, the only thing in this closet was about fifty different brooms. Honestly, who needed that many brooms?

Footsteps echoed outside the door, Thomas holding his breath as his eyes widened. What would they do to him if they found him? How would he even begin to fight his way out? With the other Gladers it would be imaginable but by himself? There was just no way.

One thing was for sure, he couldn't stay in one place too long. With a grunt he hoisted himself off the wall and slowly cracked the door open. No one was there. Perfect. Thomas took a deep breath in, readying himself for another run, and then bolted out of the closet.

He skidded around another corner and into a library of sorts. Tall oak bookshelves lined the walls and created different sections. Large signs directed where to go and so on. One could get lost just looking in.

"Dylan!"

Thomas whirled around as he backed up, Head Nurse Raven and Ratman approaching. A weapon. His mind screamed at him as he glanced around looking for anything remotely dangerous. He had to find a weapon.

A glass vase sat neatly on top one of the table, fresh roses inside. Quickly he grabbed it and hoisted it above his head threateningly, water dripping out and onto the carpet.

"Why are you alive?" Thomas shouted as Head Nurse Raven held up her hands, Ratman backing up a couple paces with his mouth agape. "I killed you! I _shucking_ _murdered_ you! I chocked the living daylights from you!"

"What is he talking about?" Raven shot the man a glance. He simply shrugged his shoulders.

"Don't you know who he is?" Thomas shouted as he leaned against the table, legs shaking from the strain. "Don't you know what he's done?"

"Janson," Raven stated with a warning tone. "What is he talking about?"

"_You're supposed to be dead_!"

"Janson! What the heck is going on!" Raven raised her voice as guards rushed into the room. Thomas quickly climbed onto the table, holding the vase above his head as he spun around, trying to defend himself.

"Stand down!" The Head Nurse commanded, the security taking a couple steps back as Thomas's shoulders began to shake.

"You killed them! You tortured us!" Thomas started to rattle on, eyes stinging as he held back tears of frustration. "Why can't you just shucking stay dead!?"

"I order you to tell me what he's talking about!"

"Everybody calm down!" Dr. Janson shouted, taking a small step forward, arms out. "This is not the first I've heard of this. Okay? Let me explain."

The man paused as he watched Thomas. The vase was getting heavy, more water spilling from it as it tipped.

"Dylan," Ratman began, taking another step forward. "You remember when… what was his simulation name… Chuck! You remember when Chuck was killed?"

Thomas growled with a new found fury, baring his teeth as he threw the vase down. The glass shattered upon impact.

"Right… Well," Janson wiped his hands nervously on his coat, glancing at the Head Nurse who was obviously not the most patient person in the room. The guards gave each other a glance, keeping out of the way. He then cleared his throat before continuing. "Well… All the Divers are connected mentally through the simulator. This is so every Diver see's relatively the same thing. So when Chuck woke up and the first thing he saw was me, instantly the image of my face was transported into the network."

"You appeared well after Chuck had died," Thomas accused. "You said just now that it was instant, you lair!"

"Yes, you're right Dylan. I did say that. And it's true. I was instantly transported into the network. But you see, it takes time for things to download into the other Divers, and to not cause confusion, the information being downloaded is withheld until each Diver has that information. Then it is revealed," Ratman paused, glancing around once more. "That's why my face showed up. And of course, the simulation didn't know what to do with this face, so it simply did what it was programmed to do. To test you. See how far you could go and how this new variable affected your killzone. But I was not a part of anything that the Dr. Janson inside the simulation did. I would never hurt you, Dylan."

Thomas seethed with anger, dark heavy breathes escaping his lips. It was too good to be true. Ratman couldn't be on his side. He was lying again. He had to be! A small, nagging part of him wanted to believe the doctor, but no. He wouldn't and couldn't do that again. Thomas would be an utter fool if he ever dared to trust that man, the one who caused so much pain and torment.

"_You're lying_," Thomas thickly spat out. "I don't trust you."

"I know," Ratmans hands shot up in an 'I surrender' way. "I'm not asking you to trust me. I'll get you assigned to a different doctor and you never have to see me again. I'll stay as far away as possible from you and you can stay as far away as possible from me… okay?"

Thomas refused to respond to this man.

"Okay… I'm going to back away now," doctor Janson informed as he slowly started to back out of the room, keeping his once insane eyes onto Thomas.

"Janson," Head Nurse Raven spoke up just as the man was about to leave. "Go to my office. Now. Once I get this sorted out you and I are going to chat."

"Right," the man gave a nervous laugh before disappearing out of the library and down the hall. Shakily, Thomas slid off the table, glaring at the guards who quietly started to give him room.

"Dylan, I believe it's time for you to see the other Divers," Head Nurse Raven cautiously walked around the glass. "Only God knows what else you'll do if you don't have someone you trust."

**A/N: Sorry that took so long! DX Life just came up and BAM! :D But now, I'm done with my online classes and have more time to write! : D yay! Tell me what you think? I kinda find this chapter a bit over-dramatic :P But it's a good setup for what's going to happen so yeah. :) Please tell me if there are any mistakes, I stayed up until two AM finishing this because I wanted to get a chapter out to you guys :P I went over and fixed the grammar and things that I saw, but still. :) **


	3. 3: Broken Friends

**Chapter Three**

**Broken Friends**

Quietly Thomas walked behind Head Nurse Raven, lips set into a frown. He honestly didn't know what to believe now. Should he trust them? Should he try and escape WICKED's clutches once more? Maybe he should just give up.

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, giving the tall nurse in front of him a once over. She was incredibly pale, now that he thought about it. It nearly reminded him of a vampire of sorts. Ironically she had raven-black hair cascading down to her mid-back and features that reminded him of a bird. The name suited her almost as well as Ratmans suited his.

"Where are we going?" Thomas finally asked as they turned yet another corner. It seemed to him they were going even further into the hospital… If it even was a hospital. For all he knew it could have been some mind control facility.

"The shared Recovery Room," Head Nurse Raven curtly replied, her lips set into a thin line as the heels of her shoes clicked loudly against the floor. "It's simply a large space in which the Divers may recover and stretch their legs."

"Right," Thomas trailed off as he crossed his arms and glanced out one of the many windows. He could only see white fog slowly passing by, a shiver running up his spine, though he wasn't quite sure why.

"Tell me Thomas," Head Nurse Raven glanced at Thomas with narrowed eyes. "How do you know Dr. Janson?"

He frowned and stared at the floor, remembering all the horrible deeds, every death, each moment of pain that was ultimately caused by this rat. Gally had been controlled to murder Chuck, Newt had been turned into a Crank, Teresa had been crushed by falling chunks of ceiling, and those were only some of the things that man had done. Thomas clenched his hands into fists.

"He was in the simulation," he finally answered. "He murdered people. He tried to take my brain at one point too."

"I see," was the only reply he got. The two fell silent after that, none of them sure what exactly they should say.

"Well, here we are," she finally stated as they approached a pair of dark oak doors. Raven forced a quick smile, one that didn't quite reach her eyes, as she stepped back and motioned for Thomas to open the doors.

Cautiously he walked forward, hands tensely gripping the handles.

"Shuck man, I'm so bored!" Minho's voice echoed from the room as Thomas pushed the door open. It was a rather large space with giant bookcases towering up to the ceiling, filled to the brim with books upon books. Big plush couches were set in groups of four around the room, the Gladers sprawled on them.

"Well, what do you want _me_ to do about it?" Newt shot back with an annoyed glare, a red book in his hands.

"Quite whining about it, we're all bored," Gally let out a sigh as he glanced around the room, eyes falling on Thomas. "Oh, hey, looks like the Greenie finally woke up."

"Thomas!" Chuck cheered, his cheeks hurting from the large smile supporting his face. "You took forever! I thought you'd never get out of the simulation."

Thomas gave a small chuckle as he rushed into the room, engulfing Chuck into a bone crushing hug.

"Aw, how sweet," Minho mocked with a smirk on his face as he crossed his twig-like arms and leaned back. "What took you so long man?"

Thomas gave a small frown as he recalled the past hour. He nervously licked his lips as he leaned forward, glancing around the room with narrowed eyes.

"Before I tell you, I need to know if you trust this… _place_," Thomas's voice grave as he leaned towards the group ever so slightly.

"They nurses, as well as the staff, are polite enough. And they have been eager to share an answer to nearly any question we ask," Newt spoke up as he quietly set the book down on the table next to him, avoiding Thomas's eyes.

"But do you trust them?" Thomas asked again, glancing around at the other Gladers.

"Yeah, why wouldn't we?" Chuck asked as he cocked his head to the side, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. Thomas took a deep breath, wringing his hands together as he gave one final suspicious look around the room.

"Ratman's here."

Newts face paled considerably as Minho's mouth slowly dropped open. Gally stifled a gasp as he too checked the room for danger, almost as if he expected Ratman to be sitting in the corner waiting for them to go on yet another test.

"Shuck, this is bad," Minho rubbed his eyes with a grimace.

"What the heck does he want with us?" Newt sat up with narrowed eyes as he glared at the floor. "We should have seen this coming…"

"I don't understand," Chuck spoke up as he scooted closer. "Who's Ratman?"

The group fell silent for a moment, each one sharing a glance as they remembered and debated on who should tell him. All eyes pointed at Thomas. With a sigh, he placed a hand on Chucks shoulder, pursing his lips as he thought about what to say.

"He uh, he was behind the maze," He finally stated. "He was one of WICKEDS heads. He made Gally kill you, he turned so many people against us… He, um… He was a very cruel and unforgiving man."

"He was a shucking psychopath," Minho scowled, Newt quietly nodding his head in agreement. Chuck narrowed his eyes as he thought, silently nodding his head.

"So, what are we going to do about it?" Gally asked as he jutted out his lower jaw.

"You're not going to do anything," A nurse with dark red hair stepped up with a tray filled with teacups in one hand and her hip on the other. "Because the Head of Security is personally looking into the matter, as well as Head Nurse Raven. You don't need to worry about it."

"You're point?" Gally asked while raising an eyebrow as he crossed his arms menacingly.

"You may not be able to trust Dr. Janson, but you can trust WICKED," she stated as she flicked her hair over her shoulder. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but wasn't it this 'Ratman' who committed all these horrid acts against you and not WICKED? I mean, sure, since he was head in the simulation it was essentially WICKED coming after you. But out here, in _reality_, he has as much influence over this organization as that potted plant over there."

"What do you mean?" Newt spoke up with a furrowed brow.

"The nurses have the power here, not the doctors," the nurse gave a smile. The tray making a clink as it was lightly set on the table. "Tea anyone?"

"Oh, yes please!" Chuck spoke up and reached his hands out for the cup. "Thank you Nurse Megan."

"No problem," she smiled before turning to the rest of the group. "Anyone else?"

Nurse Megan was greeted with silence as the rest of the Gladers stared at her suspiciously.

"Fine then," she rolled her eyes, picked up the tray and sauntered off towards the next group of Gladers, all of whom greeted the woman far kinder than they had.

"Who was that?" Thomas asked as he turned to Chuck who was happily sipping on his tea.

"Nurse Megan," he replied with a smile.

"And you just accepted tea from her because?" Minho dragged out.

"She offered it…" the boy uncertainly replied with a shrug of the shoulders. "Why? Did I do something wrong?"

"She's WICKED man, think!" Minho hissed and smacked Chuck on the forehead. "How do you know you can even trust her, _greenie_?"

"Ow!" Chuck exclaimed, earning hushes from the others. "Okay, okay, sheesh… Listen guys, I came out months before you did. I know how this place works. If anything, you guys are the greenies now, not me."

"Did he just…" Minho trailed off as he leaned back. "Did Chuck, little boy _Chuck_, just sass _me_?"

"Well, you did hit him," Thomas ever so helpfully pointed out. Minho shushed him with a scoff.

"Anyway, Nurse Megan, as well as the other nurses, are all okay," Chuck continued. "They're very forthcoming with information when they're not busy. I think the only person we need to worry about is this Ratman."

"I hope for everyone's sake that you're right," Newt stated quietly as he glanced across the room towards the nurse who was still passing out tea. She looked nice enough. But then again, so had Teresa.

"Hey guys," Thomas quietly spoke up as he glanced around. "Was Teresa a diver?"

Chuck gave a small nod of the head, taking a sip of tea.

"Yeah, she's just with the other girls in a different recovery section," Chuck stated and set his cup down. "I think it's in one of the other buildings…"

"Why would they be placed in a different building?" Thomas asked.

"Because _some of us_ have a reputation of not knowing when to keep our hands to ourselves," Newt stated as he kept his eyes glued to the page, though everyone knew who he was speaking about.

"Hey, I never went near those girls!" Minho defended himself loudly as he crossed his arms.

"I'm sure they would say otherwise," Newt muttered back with an eye roll.

"They probably just don't want too many patience in the same building," Gally spoke up. "Splitting it up girls and boys was probably easier than dividing everyone as a whole group."

"That makes sense," Thomas shrugged his shoulders and leaned back against the couch, glancing around. Sure, it made sense… it just seemed a tad bit suspicious. Why not keep the girls on a different level? Why an entirely different building? He frowned as he glanced around the room once more, boredom settling in. This was going to be a long recovery, he could feel it.

***Breakline***

They had spent an entire hour in the room with nothing but each other and the dusty old books for company. Sure, there were lots of TV's hanging on the walls, but none of the Gladers could find a remote to turn it on, or a ladder to reach them. So they sat there awkwardly, none quite wanting to share their side of the simulation, yet still extremely curious as to what everyone else had to go through.

Suddenly, the doors to the room slammed open, a man striding through the doors with his arms stretched out at his sides, proclaiming his entrance.

"Greetings Gladers," he exclaimed, flashing his pearly white teeth and swishing his vibrant red hair through the air. "I'm Ash Bates, Head of Media Control Management."

He smiled once more, glancing around the dead silent room, hands clasped together as he waited for some sort of greetings.

"Alright then, let's move on," he whispered to himself before striding into the middle of the room. "Alright everyone, please put on your listening ears, I have something to tell you."

"_Yippee_," Minho deadpanned as he pathetically twirled his finger in the air.

"Now, as you all know by now, you came out of a simulation, correct?" Ash continued without a second glance towards the sarcastic teen.

"Duh," was the most popular answer.

"Well, the Media outside is very interested to know what's happened. You're all over the news. In fact…" Ash trailed off as he reached into his pocket, pulled out a remote and pressed firmly down on the button. All around the room the TV's filled with life.

"A cure has been found, I repeat, a cure has been found," the woman on the TV practically shouted at the camera, her face so pixilated from the poor quality of the video that it made the Gladers eyes hurt. "Please go down to your nearest safe-haven city to retrieve the cure. WICKED has done it. The teenagers who went into the simulation three years ago have finally emerged, this time bringing with them a cure. More information on how this happened will come shortly."

Ash clicked the TV's off, turning around in a circle to face the teens with an eerie smile.

"You boys are heroes," he stated as he shoved the remote into his pocket. "And everyone is practically dying to know about _everything_ that happened when you were in the Trials."

**A/N: I feel like this kind of ended abruptly, but I needed it to end here for the plot. Anyways, what did you guys think? :) I just wanted to say that the only nurse I will be reusing will probably be Head Nurse Raven. Victoria is outta here! Anyway, I also wanted to tell you guys why it took so shucking long :P Finals suck. I went on a wild vacation and have had tons of just… junk going on in my life. But I'm back, and now that it's summer I'm hoping to post at LEAST twice a month. :D (Key word on hoping. ;P)**


	4. 4: A cruel world

**Chapter Four**

**A cruel world**

"You boys are heroes," Ash stated as he shoved the remote into his pocket. "And everyone is practically dying to know about everything that happened when you were in the Trials."

Silence followed. The man glanced around at the deathly quiet Gladers, the edge of his smile drooping. Awkwardly he cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his head. So far they had not taken this as well as the girls had.

"You want us to just tell you what happened in the simulation? Just like that?" Newt asked with narrowed eyes as he clenched his hands into fists.

"Oh, no! _No_, no," Ash quickly assured with a chuckle. "No, you wouldn't have to be telling anyone anything. You see, everything was recorded for Kill-zone mapping purposes. So, you're time in the maze, going through the scorch and escaping to paradise is all recorded from each and every one of your point of views. We can just release those videos for people to watch and then _viola_, people know your side of the story!"

Thomas's eyes widened, his mouth opening up with horror. Ben's banishment, not being able to save Chuck, getting drugged in that club, running from and killing cranks to survive, dancing with Brenda, being betrayed by Teresa, murdering Newt, strangling Ratman… Everything he ever remembered doing, shown for the entire world to see? Thomas dug his fingernails into his palms as he tried to slow his hammering heart and guilt flooded his body. He'd _killed_ people. Sure, they were just computer simulations, but in there he thought it was real, and he'd just… _murdered_ them. Having the entire world knowing he had done those things... Not to mention Minho would then know what had happened between Thomas and Newt, as well as everyone else.

Thomas turned his gaze towards Newt, their eyes locking. Quietly Newt shook his head as he tried to gain control of his quiet, yet panicked breathing. Both boys didn't want people to know. Both boys looked away at the same time as guilt attacked their minds. Both boys were equally responsible for what happened. And both were ashamed of it.

"Now, we can't release those videos without your consent. So please, sign your original names right here," Ash stated as he held up his clipboard and a pen.

"Are you shucking stupid?" Gally spoke up with a glare, fists shaking at his sides. "You think that after everything we just went through that we're going to freely hand over our lives?"

"Listen here, _Shank_," Minho spat the word out angrily. "We're done with the simulation! If you want something for the media, why don't you dive in _yourself_ and then show them your _freaking dandy stroll with the Grievers."_

"Yeah!" Chuck shouted out as other Gladers added in and yet some of them not entirely opposed to the idea.

"See how you like it in there!" "I bet you couldn't even last a day" "Shucking idiot." "It couldn't be so bad, could it?"

"Now, just wait a moment—" Ash tried to calm everyone down, raising his hands in mock surrender.

"The Grievers would mess you up!" "You try getting struck by lightning." "We don't all have to release our footage, just a couple of us."

"Hold on—"

"My head got swallowed by a giant metal bowling ball." "I was stupid and stayed behind; I don't want everyone knowing that!" "Then _you_ don't have to give up your footage!"

"Well-we would—"

"What about when we went to the bathroom?" "They wouldn't see that, would they?!" "Okay, _that_ I wouldn't be willing to show everyone."

"Of course not—" Ash gave a growl of frustration as the loud chatter of the Divers turned incomprehensible. "Listen people, listen!"

"_You_ shucking listen!" "Just leave us to recover in peace!" "You know how _boring_ the first two years of that would be?" "They'd probably just shave those first two years off if they weren't deemed important."

"Just leave the footage to rot!" "None of us want to see it again!"

"_Listen_ to me, it wouldn't be—" Ash tried to speak up.

"You are a liar, just like Ratman!" "Down with WICKED! Down with the lies!" "They're not the ones who are liars!" "You shucking shut up, nobody asked your opinion Billy!"

"I swear I'm not—" "It would be interesting to see what exactly Frypan put into his dishes though." "Trust me man, you don't want to know." "Just leave us alone!" "No more bowling balls, please no more!"

"Just leave us shucking alone!" Newt's voice could barely be heard above the rest, though it was quickly drowned out by the others. "Get out of here!" "Yeah, you're not wanted!" "The maze was a nightmare!"

"There's no way I'm reliving that!" "You'd be crazy to believe we'd willingly give you that!" "You think we want to re-watch our friends dying?" "I don't think so!"

"No, you don't understand. You wouldn't have to watch it, only the public—" "I don't care about the shucking public!" "Burn the footage!"

"It doesn't matter what we went through, just be happy we helped get a cure!"

"Yeah!" "You're an idiot!" "Just go die!" "Don't tell him to die! That's horrible!"

"You'd clunk your pants the moment you stepped foot in the Glade!" "You'd die before you even went into the simulation!"

"Now that's just rude—" "You think we care?" "You're the rude one!" "Forget this, I'm out of here."

"_Enough_!" A loud and clear voice cut through the masses as Head Nurse Raven stalked into the room, eyes narrowed dangerously. "Like it or not the Media needs information. And as Divers it is your job to give it to them."

"So that's it? You're just going to hand over everything we remember? Our lives!?" Gally stood up and crossed his arms with a glare.

"Of course not. As Mr. Bates said, he cannot deliver that footage without your consent," the woman stated sternly. "And I assure you that no one will see those videos unless you allow it."

"So then what's going to happen? You said yourself the press wants information," Newt frowned

"As Mr. Bates was _supposed_ to explain," Raven took a moment to give the man an unamused stare. "The world is in chaos. That much you already know. When the flare had first struck nearly everything went offline. Ways to communicate, to travel, to reinforce justice, entertainment, it was all_ gone_. Most Governments had gone insane and the public was terrified."

"WICKED was founded at this time to find a cure, and that we did. However, we couldn't just keep every little detail to ourselves, could we? The world had to know that people were trying, and actually making progress. Why? Because when people don't have hope they have no reason to live and they have nothing to lose. People who are without hope are very dangerous, to others _and_ themselves," Head Nurse Raven briefly glanced at Newt. "Our Government then created the new Media, by salvaging cameras, hiring reporters and ways to make information hearable over the entire world."

"We may have a cure but the world is still in turmoil. And it is your job as Divers to give them that hope. In order to do so, you must sacrifice a small amount of your privacy."

"Bates told us that we were all recorded for kill-zone mapping purposes," Thomas spoke up, a deep frown across his face. "Explain that for me in detail."

Head Nurse Raven gave a sigh, rubbing her temples and muttering about how the Girl Divison hadn't given her this much trouble.

"Mr. Bates, you are excused," she stated before turning towards the Gladers. Mr. Bates scurried out of the room, clip board to his chest and an annoyed glare across his face as the Head Nurse began explaining. "In order to map the kill-zone, where the Flare had taken residence in, we had to put the brain through a series of tests. The helmets you woke up in not only let us see what your brain activity was doing, but also what you were seeing. This was vital for the fact that if we didn't see what you were going through, we wouldn't know why your kill-zone was reacting the way it was."

"Makes sense, but why record everything and then keep all that footage?" Gally asked, his voice gruff as he tried to calm himself.

"We didn't have enough funding to keep educated scientist who were trained to map your killzone, watching your footage twenty-four seven," Raven scoffed with an eye roll. "Honestly, we don't have that many resources. It was recorded for the purpose that, if something major happened while someone was not monitoring, the specialists would be able to go back and see what happened and why. As well as giving them an opportunity to go over past footage, in case they missed something the first time."

"I want to see it," Minho stood up, dusting off his pants.

"Excuse me?" Head nurse raven raised an eyebrow, hands on her hips.

"I want to see where you keep the footage," he boldly replied, crossing his arms defiantly.

"Yeah, that's actually a really good idea," Gally gave a small smirk as he stood up too, other Gladers scattered across the room voicing their agreements and standing rebelliously. Well, those who could stand at least. Raven glanced around the room, a look of disbelief fluttering across her face.

"_Oh, fine then_!" She threw her hands in the air and stalked towards the door. "Those who require wheelchairs will get in said wheelchairs or else they are not coming. And those who are not in wheelchairs will push the people who are in them. _Understood_?"

"Yes ma'am," Chuck replied with a smile and small salute, walking over to Thomas and rolling a wheelchair right up to him.

"I don't need one of those," Thomas stated as he stood up, legs shaking slightly. Chuck frowned, and glanced towards Head Nurse Raven, who was already dealing with a different Glader refusing their wheelchair.

"Oh, just get in the shucking chair, greenie," Minho rolled his eyes as he set himself down in his own wheelchair. "Muscle atrophy affects everyone. _Even you_. Now sit."

With a sigh Thomas quietly sat down, Chuck eagerly pushing him towards the door where Nurse Raven awaited.

"Single file line," she announced and began walking (though to Thomas it looked more like marching) down the hall and around the corner, Gladers eagerly following.

"This'll be interesting," Thomas muttered under his breath, thinking over the events that had just occurred.

They were all at different staged of recovery, and Thomas knew it would be incredibly harsh for them to _not_ get on one another's nerves, especially now that each Glader was presented with a choice. One that could divide their friendship just as easy as a knife could slice through butter.

To give their side of the story.

Or keep it to themselves.

No one knew what the others would choose.

**A/N: Right, well… Okay, I'm sorry I didn't update twice in June, and, to be honest, I probably won't update twice in July too. Recently a relative of mine died and we had to go out of state to the funeral and I'm just so exhausted and then we have more family coming out as well as a bunch of other things. But I will try my absolute hardest to update this thing and get past my troubles! :D So, maybe you will get an update twice this month, and maybe you won't. Not even I know. **

**And I also felt that, as a reader, nobody really would get the depth of the issue going on here. The Gladers have the possibility of their entire ****_lives_****, ****_everything_**** they ever remember doing, being shown to the entire world for information purposes. And the worst fact is, some of their friends are willing to do it. **

**So, tell me what you think. I didn't really like this chapter, but don't know how to like, fix it. **

_~An alert gets you to meet Newt. A review lets you take all Newts troubles away… just sayin'.~_


	5. 5: Cracking friendships

Chapter Five

**Cracking friendships**

Unlike earlier, when Thomas was walking with Head Nurse Raven, the hallways were exceptionally busy. Nurses darted this way and that. A loud and incomprehensible voice would blare through the speakers imbedded in the ceiling. Doctors sat in a corner, looking over their own clipboards and comparing notes. Ratman, or 'Dr. Janson', was not to be seen anywhere. And although that relieved Thomas, it greatly upset him at the same time. If he wasn't here, then where was he?

"Alright boys, here we are," Head Nurse Raven came to a stop in front of two metal doors. With a small frown the nurse placed her hand against the wall, a green light scanning it and bleeping a small 'access granted', before the doors slid open.

"Woah," Chuck whispered as he pushed Thomas through the door. The room itself was dark, the only light coming from little grooves near the ground. Tall racks towered above them, clear boxes with footage tucked away inside of them. Rows upon rows of these racks traveled down, crisscrossing, forming different branches and sections. Thomas was positive you'd need a map to find anything in this place.

"All of this is from inside the simulation?" Thomas asked as he looked around.

"No, not all of it. Most of it is just old security tapes we're not using anymore. The simulation footage will be on your left," Head Nurse Raven stated and leaned against the wall, checking her watch. "Well, go ahead and explore. There's no harm in you being in here since all the footage can't be accessed without the correct authorization. You have five minutes until we go back… starting now."

Minho grabbed ahold of his wheels and started to rapidly roll them down the rows, eyes eagerly searching for a way into the footage. Perhaps it was to see for himself if the security was just as good as Head Nurse Raven said it was. Perhaps it was to prove Head Nurse Raven wrong. Either way, nobody would know except Minho himself.

"Well, which way do you want to go?" Chuck asked as he glanced around, chewing his lip nervously as he gazed into the tall and dark corridor, an uneasy feeling entering his stomach. He tapped his foot lightly against the stone ground… this place reminded Chuck of something, and yet he couldn't quite put his finger on it. Thomas opened his mouth to respond when he saw Newt roll himself down one row, glance over his shoulder to look directly into Thomas's eyes, and then roll around the corner.

"I… I think I'm going to go alone," Thomas spoke up with narrowed eyes as he began to roll himself to where Newt last was. "You have fun, Chuck."

"But I don't…" Chuck trailed off with a sigh as he watched Thomas turn the corner after Newt. Silently, he turned towards the long corridors of footage, staring up at them with uncertainty. This place was incredibly familiar, but not in a good way. And it was then that it clicked in his mind and he let out a gasp, pressing himself up against the wall. This place, with the towering walls, the stone floors and the dark corridors… there was no way he was exploring this place alone anymore. No way at all.

* * *

Thomas quickly pushed himself through the rows upon rows of locked footage, eyes scanning through the darkness for Newt. Finally he found the boy inspecting a particular piece of film. It was locking in a clear box, just like the rest. It was labeled as well too.

"_Thomas Sangster_," Newt spoke up as he looked at the label with a frown. "That's my real name. Has a kind of ring to it, don't ya think?"

"What's going on, Newt?" Thomas asked quietly as he rolled up to the boy. With a sigh, Newt put the box back in its place and turned towards Thomas.

"You can't tell anyone," he stated with a frown, crossing his arms.

"Tell what—"

"_You know bloody well what I mean_," Newt hissed, leaning forward. "I've managed to convince Minho that I never left crank palace. That I fell asleep one night and then woke up here because you guys had completed the simulation… I've also convinced him not to tell anyone else that I was a crank. _Especially_ not Alby."

Thomas stared at his friend, eyebrows furrowing.

"Why?" Thomas asked.

"_Why do you think_?" Newt moved forward, forcing Thomas to roll himself back. "Would you want your mates to know that, not only were you suicidal, but _completely_ _insane_ as well? And that you made someone shoot you through the head?"

"But wouldn't they understand—"

"_Nobody_ would understand, Tommy," Newt growled out. "Heck, even _you_ don't understand."

Thomas frowned as he paused to think, eyes falling to the floor. Newt sighed as he ran a hand through his hair and glanced behind him.

"_Look_," he finally stated as he faced Thomas. "You're on a tight rope too. I doubt you want people to know that you killed me, so we're on the same side. Just… don't release your footage and we shouldn't have a problem, alright?"

Newt looked Thomas firmly in the eye before he gripped his wheels and began to roll away.

"But what about the nurses?" Thomas called out, Newt stopping in his tracks. "What if one of them asks? Or what if Minho gets suspicious? And I have some questions about what happened too."

Newt rolled back up to Thomas, eyes narrowed and a snarl on his face.

"You don't talk me about it, you don't talk to the nurses about it, and you don't talk to anyone else about it. _Heck_, you don't even _think_ about it, got that?" Newt ground out, Thomas falling quiet as he nodded his head. "_It_ never happened and we _never_ had this conversation."

Thomas let out a sigh as he fiddled with his fingers.

"Alright, fine," he quietly muttered, worry and guilt twisting in his gut as Newt rolled away. "Have it your way…"

Thomas took a moment to sit there, thinking to himself as he glared at Newts box. He wasn't going to release the footage anyway, and he hadn't planned on talking to any of the nurses or Gladers about it… But he had questions, so _many_ questions, on what happened. Like why was Newt made a crank in the simulation? Why did Newt try to kill himself in the maze? Why he asked Thomas, of all people, to shoot him? He shook his head and turned away from the box, grabbing onto his wheels and pushing himself along the corridors, not really looking for anything, yet not willing to go back just yet.

Thomas sighed, coming to a stop to rest his arms for a moment. He looked around, eyes narrowing. This place looked familiar… had he already been down this way? With a frown he turned his head up, mouth falling open as he peered through the darkness. The footage up there must have been incredibly old, for cobwebs stretched down and across the racks… And, if he really thought about it, they almost resembled… _vines_. Thomas's eyes widened as he came to a sudden realization. This place looked an awful lot like the maze.

And it was at this moment that Thomas heard shouting.

Without even thinking, he flipped his wheelchair around and rolled himself as fast as he could towards the sounds. The closer he got the more he could understand what was being said.

"You can't!"

"Yes he can!"

"You shucking stay out of this!"

He turned the corner and rushed down the corridor. Minho was there up ahead, rushing at the same pace as Thomas.

"What's going on?" Thomas asked as he neared Minho. Sweat glistened against the boys forehead as they turned the corner, rushing towards the shouts.

"Do I honestly look like I know, greenie?" Minho rolled his eyes. "Stop asking stupid questions."

Finally, the two screeched into the main hall. Chuck was pressed against the wall, eyes wide as he watched the other Gladers fighting. Not any huge monster or crank, but each other.

"I can release my shucking side of the story if I want too!" Ben shouted into Alby's face.

"This will only lead to chaos! Now let's just _stop_ and think for a minute—" Gally was cut off as Frypan turned towards him, fury clear in his eyes.

"Like we're going to trust you, the guy who went all crazy and _murdered_ Chuck!" Frypan crossed his arms, a glare on his face.

"Maybe we should all just leave now," Thomas stated quietly to himself with a glance towards the dark corridor. No longer did it truly look like the maze, but it still gave him the creeps.

"Whoa, whoa, _whoa_," Minho rolled forward, the shouting dying down as he stepped in-between the arguing Gladers. "What the shuck is going on?"

"He's refusing to let us release our footage to the press!" Ben accused as he pointed at Alby.

"I'm a big part of your footage!" Jeff exclaimed with a scowl. "You should have to get my permission to release it first!"

"That's bullcrap! I don't give a shuck about getting your permission," Ben shouted. "If I want to release my part I will!"

"You _cannot_ and _will not_ release that footage," Alby commanded with a stern frown.

"You're not the boss out here, Alby! _None of us are_!"

"Everybody shut up!" Minho shouted, the Gladers once again falling silent. "Head Nurse Raven stated that if you want to release your side of the story, then you can. Now, I don't know about you, but I think some of us should man up and give part of our side. The world's in chaos, and if we can do something to help settle it down, then it's our duty too… and if you shanks are too chicken to release your footage then I will release mine."

"_I'm_ in that footage," Newt spoke up as he rolled forward, eyes narrowed. "You know you can't release your part."

"Don't you want them to know what we went through for them? How awesome we all were?" Minho turned to Newt, crossing his arms.

"Says someone who actually _survived_," Jeff muttered under his breath.

"Why should we cater to the world? We've already saved them, the least they can do is leave us alone," Newt pointed out. "This is our entire lives, everything we ever remember doing, and you're going to give it up freely for the world to pick at?"

"Hey, I get it man," Ben spoke up, walking forward. "You don't want to release your side because you've done things. Heck, I went crazy and tried to _kill_ Thomas over there!"

Everyone paused and looked at Thomas who simply shrugged his shoulders.

"But I'm not going to let something that I had _no control_ over determine how I'm going to live my life," Ben finished, crossing his arms. "And I'm man enough to do it. Are you?"

"We _did_ have control," Gally stated with a glare. "Our actions in there were one hundred percent our own. Now, I don't know what kind of delusions you've gotten yourself to believe, but the mistakes we made out there were our fault. And I don't think _any_ of us wants the entire world to know our every mistake."

"You're just scared that they'll judge you when they see how you all banished me," Ben stated with a frown.

"Oh, like they won't judge you when they see you going through changing."

"Who's to say the world will even judge?" Frypan raised his voice, others doing the same as they tried to be heard over the noise.

"The world might be satisfied with the footage, but who's to say we will be?" "You're just being chicken!"

"How dare you shucking call me chicken when you're one of the ones who stayed behind in the maze!" "That's going too far!" "You want the world to see every little mistake you've ever made?" "They'd edit it out, right?" "Everyone should _just calm down_!" "_You_ shucking calm down!"

"Whoever released their footage is a shucking traitor!" "That's just cruel!"

"We need to stick together!"

"_Well_," Chuck spoke up, trying to gain everyone's attention. "I think you've all brought up some valid points."

"Shut up! Just shucking shut up!" "I don't see why you'd even want to—" "—All I'm sayin' is—"

"Shut—" "How dare—" "—Would you quite—" "You killed people—"

Everyone fell silent as they watched Ben's fist fly through the air. Gally caught it, glaring intently at the younger boy as he shoved it away.

"What the heck was that?" Gally shouted as Head Nurse Raven walked up to them. Without even blinking she grabbed Ben and Gally's ears, forcing them apart. Both boys winced in pain as she marched them back to the entrance.

"I don't know what went through your minds, but I am telling you right now that fighting is not an option," she spoke calmly and quietly, which made it all the more deadly.

"Everyone back in line. You just lost your privileges."

Quietly, the Gladers all got back into line. Some would send occasional glares to those they were arguing with, as if blaming them and others simply stared at the ground, wishing none of this ever happened.

"Where are we going now?" Minho spoke up, cocking his head to the side.

"Your rooms."

Understandably, this greatly miffed the Gladers. Especially since it seemed as though they were being sent to said rooms like children. However, none were stupid enough to voice their thoughts on the matter.

Thomas stared down at the floor, a frown on his face as he replayed the previous events in his head. He didn't know what exactly had gotten into his friend. Perhaps just the stress of knowing everything you've ever done or accomplished was fake. Something in a simulation with no real value. Or perhaps it was just the fear of knowing that you'd made mistakes in your fake life, and those mistakes, be it big or small, would play out for the entire world to watch. Maybe it was a mix of both. Either way, the Gladers were being split up.

And Thomas knew only chaos would follow. And when there was chaos, more often than not somebody died.

**A/N: … XD This is so over dramatic, but I don't know how to fix that :P Anyway, I'm not going to bother rewriting it because I did that like ten times. -.- And I am really excited for where the plot is going with this one. And to address a review I got recently, if you don't care for how this is going, then I'm sorry. But I'm not writing this fanfic to get reviews or please you guys or anything like that (though, I do admit I was trying to do that with the last version, which just made it fall apart). So I'm going to continue writing with the plot I have in mind. :) I'm not trying to sound rude or angry with this response, because honestly I'm not, I'm just simply laying it out as it is. **

**Also, I would have updated sooner but as you all know my summer has been less than pleasing. At least I'm writing again, right? :) **


	6. 6: Something isn't right

**Chapter Six**

**Something isn't right**

Thomas frowned as Nurse Vicky, one of the other nurses who had come to assist Head Nurse Raven, opened the door to his room. It looked identical to the one he'd woken up in. The only difference being there was no evidence of the simulation machine or headgear.

"Well, go on," Nurse Vicky rolled her eyes as she held the door open. "It's a bedroom, not a jail cell."

Thomas sent her a sideway glance, annoyance clear on his face as he walked into the room. Without as much as a goodbye the nurse shut the door, the sound of her heals clicking against the floor receding down the hall. And now Thomas was stuck with a choice. To be a good little boy and go to bed, or stay up, snoop around and think about what on earth he was going to do with his friends.

He decided to start snooping first, eyes falling on the small dresser. Slowly he made his way to the dresser, glancing back at the door every so often and keeping his ears open in case someone were to approach. With a small screech of wood against wood, Thomas pulled the biggest drawer, located on the bottom, open.

Like anyone would expect, the dresser held clothes. This particular drawer held pajama's, neatly folded up in a pile. Thomas shut that drawer and opened the one above that. More clothes, only these looked to be real clothes that one would wear in public. He shut that one too, not taking much interest in looking through what they were giving him to wear. Next were the top three, mini drawers. He opened the one to his left first, a frown coming over his face as he stared at the different variety of socks. Honestly, how many socks did one person need? Next came the middle, and he was rather disappointed to find it completely empty. It also appeared to be jammed, not able to be pulled out to its full length. With an irritated sigh, he opened the last drawer on the right. Boxers and briefs were folded neatly inside.

"At least they give us choices," Thomas muttered under his breath as he shut that one as well, sitting down on the edge of the bed. Other than the dresser, the room was pretty much empty. The walls an almost blinding shade of white, with nothing but a picture of a sparrow hanging above the door. All that Thomas was left with was to think. So that's what he would do.

With a small sigh, Thomas leaned against the wall, his feet propped up on the bed as he tapped his chin. It was obvious the Gladers were at a crossroads. One side wanting to have the right to release their footage, the other wanting to keep the secrets of what they'd been through, hidden away.

Thomas wasn't exactly sure what side he was on. Sure, he felt as if making sure no one released their footage was a bit overdramatic… but, then again… the horrors they'd experienced, everything they ever remembered doing, shown out like a movie for the entire world to see? No, he knew he was not going to be the one to release his footage. But surely others should be allowed too, right?

But, then again… if someone who did not want their video released, were to be in someone else's footage, they should have a say in if it's released or not. But if they did that then no one would be able to release their footage. After all, nearly half the Gladers didn't want their footage to be released.

Perhaps they could vote? See what the majority wanted and cater to that… Newt and Minho's anger filled faces flashed through his mind. War might start if one side didn't get their way. Thomas wanted to kick something. Why did this have to be so shucking hard? If he didn't know what Newt had at stake, and what he himself had at stake, he might've been content to just let things play out.

A knock at the door startled Thomas from his thoughts and a nurse poked her head through. A gentle smile was on her face, her strawberry blond hair falling gracefully in front of her eyes.

"It's time to try and go to sleep, Dylan," she smiled sweetly, stepping inside the room gently. "Is there anything you'll need before I leave?"

Quietly Thomas shook his head no, the nurse giving a kind smile as she turned the lights out and shut the door behind her. He stared out into the darkness, mind wandering through different scenarios. Whichever way this went, he knew there would be conflict. Already unkind words were spoken and most of his friends were on the brink of starting a fistfight. If only there was a simple way to stop them from fighting…

Slowly, as he let these thoughts guide him, Thomas slumped forward and fell asleep.

***Break line***

Thomas awoke to Newt standing over him, eyes narrowed as he roughly shook Thomas's arm. The boy kept glancing over his shoulder towards the door, panic clear on his face.

"Newt… what's wrong?" Thomas sat up, rubbing his eyes as he looked around. It was still incredibly dark, though he was able to make out the shapes of Minho and Teresa. "What's happening?"

"_They're doin' it again_," Newt hissed in his ear as he urged for Thomas to get out of bed. "They're putting us all back in the shucking maze!"

Thomas's heart pounded against his chest as he shot out of bed. Panic tightened around his guts and he stumbled backwards, leaning against the dresser for support.

"_What_?" He gasped as Minho cocked a gun and threw it to him. "_Why_?"

"Who cares?" Minho snapped as he flattened himself against the wall and peeked an eye out the door. "The point is, it's happening. Wicked was bad this entire time."

"We were so _stupid_ to believe for one moment we'd be able to escape," Newt cursed as he waited behind Minho, eyes narrowed.

"Thomas, come on," Teresa urged as she grabbed onto his hand, pulling him gently forward. Her hair hung loosely in her face, sweat glistening against her brow. "We haven't got a lot of time."

"Teresa, what are you—" Thomas was cut off as the sound of a Machine gun filled the air. Somebody could be heard shrieking and another crying for help.

"That's our cue," Minho grimaced and shoved the door open, rushing out and shooting at the guards.

"Come on!" Urged Teresa as she and Newt both ran from the room. Without a second of hesitation Thomas followed them, ducking as bullets punctured the wall behind him. He turned the corner, catching up with his friends as they fought their way through the building.

"We have to find Dr. Janson," Teresa exclaimed as they rushed past a group of soldiers. "You may not like it, but he's the only trustworthy person we've got in this place."

"You mean Ratman?" Thomas shouted as they rushed across a room and into another hall. "The man who's been trying to kill me from the very beginning?"

"That was inside the simulation, Greenie," Minho rolled his eyes as they slowed down to a stop. He peeked around the corner, motioning that it was all clear. "If you haven't noticed, a lot of things are different out here."

"Don't worry, mate," Newt assured him as they rushed down the hallway, checking over their shoulders for more guards. "He's trustable out here. I wouldn't otherwise unless I was positively sure."

Thomas came to a stop, mouth gaping open. This was unbelievable. First they were supposedly being put back in the maze, and now they were trusting Ratman? And what was Teresa even doing here?

"What the shuck are you doing?" Minho exclaimed as he came to an abrupt stop and glared at Thomas. "Let's _go_!"

"Tommy, just trust us with this," Newt urged, glancing down the hallway where more guards appeared. With a grunt of frustration, Thomas forced himself to follow his friends. Away from the guards they went, down the hall, around a corner and into an office labeled "Dr. Janson".

"Somebody find a light switch," Teresa whispered as she began moving her hands around on the wall. A shiver rushed up Thomas's spine and goosebumps formed on his arms as the chilly air from the vent bore down on them. Suddenly, the lights clicked on. Thomas let out a small hiss and shielded his eyes, squinting to try and see.

"Oh… oh my gosh," Teresa whispered in horror as she stared down at the mangled body of Dr. Janson.

"I'm gonna be sick," Newt whimpered and covered his mouth. Minho looked away, disgust clear on his face.

"We have to get out of here," Thomas urged them and turned the blinding lights off. Quickly, they rushed out of the room and snuck down the hallway. They continued like this, sneaking and glancing worriedly over their shoulder. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity of sneaking around, they found a door.

"This is it, let's go!" Minho rushed towards the door and swung it open. An alarm quickly started blaring through the air, the Gladers (and Teresa) freezing for a fraction of a second before breaking out into a mad dash for freedom. Guards swarmed from all directions, but somehow they made it.

Outside the door the snow was falling heavily, as if urging the children to run, _run as fast as they can_! Thomas tripped over a hidden root, Newt and Minho quickly picking him back up and helping him along. Bullets sprayed through the air as they dodged trees and ran over hills. They all turned around a particularly thick tree only to come face to face with Head Nurse Raven.

"You cannot escape, Thomas," she smiled and held up the gun to Thomas's face. "You'll die before you escape."

Head Nurse Raven pulled the trigger and almost instantly Thomas found himself laying in the ground.

_Light flashed in his eyes. People were screaming his name. It was dark, so dark and then suddenly so very bright. Pain was everywhere. There was so much pain."Thomas!" Pain… pain… make it stop, someone make it stop. "Thomas! Wake up!" someone was sobbing. Why were they crying? Oh yeah, he just got shot in the shucking face! "Wicked is bad. Don't forget, wicked is bad!" the pain was almost too much to bear. He was losing his grip on reality. Newt was over him, eyes blank and face serious. "Don't trust Wicked."_

***Breakline***

Thomas let out a gasp as he sat upright in his bed, hand flying to his heart. Adrenalin coursed through his veins as he stared out into the darkness, gasping for breath. A dream. Had that really only been a dream? Newt's voice echoed around in his head. Don't trust wicked. Wicked is bad. Do _not_ trust wicked…

Thomas shook his head and threw the blankets off of himself, letting his feet dangle off the bed. Don't trust wicked. Wicked is bad.

_Wicked is bad. _

_Wicked. _

_Is._

**_Bad_**_._


	7. 7: Runners gotta Run

**Chapter seven **

**Runners Gotta Run**

* * *

**Previously: The Divers are fighting over who will release their footage. Thomas and Newt had a… discussion, on Thomas releasing his side of the footage and basically they both promised not to release their footage. Thomas had a nightmare. You should probably go read the nightmare chapter over again if you don't remember what happened, and tbh I don't blame you if you don't remember. This took waaaay too long to write. DX **

* * *

Thomas shook as he stared out against the dark room, taking big gulps of air as he tried to calm down. _Wicked is bad. Wicked is bad_. The words continued to echo through his mind. Ratmans mangled form flashed across his vision and Thomas jumped, inching back as he covered his face. _Wicked is bad. Wicked is bad_.

"It was just a dream. _Just a dream_," Thomas mumbled to himself as he pulled his knees to his chest. Sweat coated his forehead as he trembled, trying to get a grip back on reality. _Wicked is bad. Wicked is bad. _

_No_!

Wicked is good. Wicked is supposed to be good! Chuck trusted them. Ben trusted them. Alby trusted them. Heck, even _Minho_ shucking trusted them! _Wicked was good_. Thomas tried to convince himself. _Wicked was good_.

"_No_," the little voice inside his head hissed. "_Wicked is bad_."

He shook his head with a frustrated groan. Fighting with himself wasn't going to fix anything. But what was there to fix? What was the actual problem here? Thomas bit on his knuckles as he stared out into the dark room. Was it simply just a nightmare? A horrific scenario his subconscious had made up. Or was there more to it? And if there was more to it, what did it mean? Was Wicked really bad? Could he not trust them? Perhaps this, the entire hospital and everything in it, was just part of another simulation. How could he know for sure? Everything that had happened to him had felt so real. He could still remember the pain. Emotional and physical. The fear he'd experienced when facing off with Grievers, cranks. The love he felt with Teresa and Brenda. The friendships he'd formed. How could all that be something a mindless computer dreamt up?

_Wicked is bad. Wicked is bad_. The voice hissed in his ears, a shiver running up his spine. What if his dream meant something? What if wicked really couldn't be trusted? The rational part of his brain was telling him he was being an idiot. That there was nothing to worry about. But if there were nothing to worry about, how come the panic in his chest threatened to burst out? How come he felt as though something were watching him? If there was truly nothing wrong, then how come sweat coated his back and the adrenaline rushing through his veins urged him to run.

He had to tell someone. Warn the other Gladers. Make them stop fighting so that they could stand through this together! But who could he tell without causing a mass-panic? Who would listen to him without instantly telling him that '_it was just a bad dream_' and actually consider the possibility that they were once again in danger?

"_Minho_," Thomas whispered. He dashed towards the door, hand gripping the metal doorknob. Minho would know what to do.

Thomas slipped from his room and into the darkened hallway. His heart pounded in his ears as he quickly shut the door behind him. He edged away from the room, the hairs on his neck standing on end as images from his dream flashed across his mind. _Wicked is bad. Wicked is bad_.

Suddenly Thomas was thrown to the floor, a dark figure bursting from the darkness and colliding into Thomas's side. Thomas winced as he sat up along with the dark figure, eyes straining to make out even the slightest of details.

"Who—" Thomas froze as his eyes centered in on a small, clear box the figure had dropped. His blood turned cold and panic threatened to overcloud his systems.

That box.

_He recognized that box_.

In an instant the figure had shot forward, grabbed the box and then was running off into the darkened hallway. Without so much as a thought about the consequences, Thomas staggered to his feet and rushed after him. That figure, whoever he was, was stealing something that most certainly did not belong to him. And Thomas was not going to let him get away.

Thomas pumped his legs as he forced himself forward. His lungs already burned, his legs shaking from the strain. Mere seconds had passed and Thomas knew he was sorely outmatched. The figure slid around the corner, and, try as he may, Thomas could not get his legs to follow. With a small gasp, Thomas felt himself collapse in a heap on the floor. With a curse towards Muscle Atrophy, Thomas staggered up, using the wall for support as he ignored the ache in the souls of his feet.

At this rate, he was never going to catch the thief. Thomas needed help, that much he knew. Quickly, his eyes began to scan the darkened hallway, trying to find something to use to his advantage.

_There!_

A gurney was positioned in a small cranny, tucked away from the main hall. Without a moments to loose, Thomas flung himself over, his knee's buckling together from the strain. With a grunt, Thomas hoisted himself up on top of the gurney, grabbed a nearby IV holder, and began to push himself forward. It was slow going at first, but the faster he 'rowed', the faster he went. Within moments the thief was in his sights.

"Stop right there!" Thomas cried as he pushed himself forward. The dark figure, who had slowed his pace, now took off at full speed, clutching the box tightly in his hands. Thomas narrowed his eyes as he continued to push himself forward. One goal was on his mind, and one goal only.

_Get the box_.

With a battle cry, Thomas gave the gurney one final push, crashing into the thief once more. Thomas gave a yelp as the gurney tipped over the darkened figure, sending him rolling down the hallway. As quickly as his muscles allowed, Thomas struggled to get up. The figure was laying underneath the gurney, groaning as he held his head. The IV holder had somehow snapped in half and lay in pieces on the floor. And the box sat neatly on the ground, right on front of Thomas.

Without a moment of delay, Thomas shot forward. He grabbed the box and held it up to the moonlight streaming in from one of the many windows. Dread settled in on his stomach as he looked it over. The box was clear, small and a disk filled to the brim with data rested neatly inside. _This was bad_. This was so very, very bad. Head Nurse Raven had told them with confidence that these could never be stolen. Either she had lied to their faces or someone with clearance into that room had decided to take matters into their own hands…

But whose footage was it? Chucks? Minho's? Alby's? Gally's? Thomas felt his jaw go slack as a thought occurred to him.

_What if they'd taken Newts?_

His heart pounded in his chest as he slowly turned the box over, eyes scanning over the white label that ran across the top.

Thomas didn't want to believe. He wanted this all to be just like the nightmare, because as vivid as that nightmare had been, at least it was just a dream. Thomas cursed as he stared at the bold letters, his stomach twisting itself into a knot as he read the name over and over again. No, _nonono_. This was bad. This was very, very, bad.

**Dylan O'Brien. **

This was _his_ footage… someone was trying to take _his_ footage. What were they going to do with it? What did they even _want_ with it? Thomas narrowed his eyes and held the box to his chest as he struggled to stand to his feet, turning to face the figure. The world couldn't have his footage, no matter how badly they wanted it. He had made a promise. One that he wasn't going to break lightly.

"Who are you?" Thomas asked with a growl as he leaned against the wall, holding the box tightly to his chest. The figure simply groaned as he pushed the gurney off of him. Thomas took a step back, locking eyes with the thief as he tried again. "Who _are_ you?"

"Give me the footage, Dylan," the figure spoke up, his voice raw and gruff as he stood up.

"No," Thomas shook his head firmly as he took another step back. He could feel his legs shaking, sweat dripping off his brow. He needed help. "Tell me who you are!"

"Listen, Dylan," the thief growled as he walked a couple paces towards Thomas. "I need that footage, alright? It's for the good of humanity! Now, give it here."

"Well, shuck the world!" Thomas shouted out as he continued to walk backwards. His shoulders scraped against a box on the wall, and he felt hope spark in his chest. A fire alarm. That would work. "I don't shucking care what '_the world wants'_. This is _my_ footage, and you can't have it!"

"_Dylan_," the figure stated irritably as he began to take another step forward, faltering when he saw Thomas's hand on the fire alarm, ready to set it off at any moment. "Dylan, if you pull that lever, I'm going to have to hurt you. Believe me, I don't want to do that."

Thomas labored for breath, his legs shaking, arms quaking. With a final glare directed towards the figure, Thomas tightened his grip on the lever.

"Give me the box, _Dylan_!" The figure shouted in a vain attempt.

"_Come and get it_," Thomas growled as he threw his hand down.

Instantaneously, alarms sounded to life. Red lights began flashing as the sprinklers turned on, drenching the two in mere seconds. The figure launched himself towards Thomas, dragging the boy to the ground as they struggled for the box.

Water poured into Thomas's eyes. The alarm rang loudly in his ears. The thief climbed up onto Thomas's stomach, straddling him as he tried to yank the box from the boys hands. Thomas kicked with all his might, and if they were in the simulation, you could be guaranteed the thief's lungs would have had the air knocked straight out of them.

However, this was _real_ life, and all his kicks seemed to be accomplishing were tiny little annoyances.

"I didn't want to have to do this," the figure stated as he let go of the box with one hand and solidly punched Thomas in the face. Blood spilled from Thomas's nose and into his mouth as he tried to keep hold of the box.

In retrospect, it was futile. The figure completely and totally overpowered Thomas in every way possible. He was stronger, faster, and had a much better grip on the box than Thomas did. It was only a matter of time before the thief got his hands on the box for good.

And that was exactly what happened. With one last punch to Thomas's face, the thief yanked the box free, rolled away from Thomas and then was up and running down the hallway once more. In a matter of seconds, the figure had disappeared, leaving Thomas to struggle on the floor.

He had gotten away with the box. The precious footage Thomas had only hours previously, promised Newt he wouldn't release.

Thomas had failed.

**A/N: Okay… Let me just say that this is probably the only chase scene you guys are going to get. It literally took me over two months to write... I hate writing chase scenes. But now that THAT'S over with, you'll probably be getting a lot more updates! :) **

**I don't think I really need to say this, but… I'm_ so_ sorry it took so long. Chase scenes are my kryptonite. I swear I'll update the next chapter in a couple days! I SWEAR! **


	8. 8: The Consequences of Running

**Chapter eight**

**The consequences of Running**

Head Nurse Raven was not having a good day.

For starters, she'd had to go personally deal with Dylan, who had been the most vital part of the simulation. After all, it _was_ his brain that had ultimately created the cure. That in itself wasn't so bad… up until he had that mental breakdown with Dr. Janson, forcing her to postpone his checkup, which he _desperately_ needed. Then, she'd had to deal with Dr. Janson himself. What was going on in that man's mind was beyond her. Already he was on a tight leash for experimenting with the Simulation Computers, _now_ he had to be closely watched _at all times_ just to make sure nobody else freaked out the moment they saw him. Honestly, she was _this_ close to firing him. _Oh_, and of course then Mr. Bates _had_ to go into the Shared Recovery Room and stir everyone up, telling them (and Dylan who had yet to receive his checkup) vital information about how their time in the maze was recorded. This, _of course_, set everyone into an uproar and she had to personally show them how it was all safe and that they could release _their_ footage _only_ if they _wanted_ too. And _that_ had set everyone off onto different sides of an argument; one she knew that, as the Head Nurse, she'd be the one to solve.

And now, here she sat at 3:15 AM, in her office, with Dylan (who had _still_ not gotten a checkup) ranting and screaming and Nurse Megan trying, but failing, to calm him down.

_What a wonderful day. _

"We-we have to send people!" Thomas continued to shout as he leaned forward onto her desk. Why was he soaking wet? Oh, _right_. He'd pulled the fire alarm and set everyone into a wild panic.

"Dylan, if you'd please _just_…" Nurse Megan trailed off as Thomas started shouting once again.

"He stole it! You _have_ to stop him!" Thomas demanded as he slammed his fist into the desk. Head Nurse Raven took off her glasses and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Send someone to go get him! _He's getting away_!"

"_Dylan_, I already told you. I've sent out at least half of our Special Operations Forces to find the thief," Head Nurse Raven stated calmly as she stood up. "They're out there searching as we speak. I'll be sure to alert you when we've found him. In the meantime, why don't you let Nurse Megan take you for a checkup so we can make sure you're alright?"

"How did he even get it?" Thomas asked, leaning against her desk heavily. Whether it was for intimidation or support, Head Nurse Raven didn't know. "You told us everything was safe. You promised us nobody to get it. _You lied_."

"Dylan, _please_ just take a seat and…" Nurse Megan huffed as she was ignored once again.

"What if someone else decides to walk in there do the same thing? What if he comes back takes all of them!?" Thomas was back to shouting, his frame shaking from the strain of the previous hours. Nurse Megan stood next to him, eyes watching like a hawk through her thick glasses. Her hands were hovering over him as she prepared to catch him, should his legs fail. "You don't know for sure—"

"Dylan, _enough_," Head Nurse Raven walked around her desk and forced him to sit down in the chair, Nurse Megan letting out a silent sigh of relief. "Let me be frank with you, alright?"

She didn't wait for his permission as she leaned against the desk, her arms crossed.

"Only someone with access to that room would be able get ahold of the boxes with the footage. The only people who _have_ access are the Nurses, Doctors, and a select few whom I trust. As we speak I have sent The Head Security to go investigate and figure out as much as he can. Who took it, when the thief took it, where the thief took it and why," Head Nurse Raven stated. "And even though the thief has the box, he or she won't be able to open it. You have to have _this_ to even get inside."

She held up her personal access card, giving it a wave before she tucked it safely back into her pocket.

"And even if you pry the box open, a trigger is pulled, destroying the footage instantaneously," she finished. Thomas frowned, unsure if he should believe her or not. With an irritated sigh and a groan about how he was the most _untrusting_ Diver she'd ever met, Head Nurse Raven went back over to her desk and sat down.

"I have sent security to go personally guard that room," Head Nurse Raven explained. "Until then, I believe it would be best to keep this quiet. I know how the other Divers would react to this information, and the best thing for them at the moment is to sit back and relax. Their job as Divers is done. They shouldn't have to worry about life or death situations anymore. This _includes_ you, Dylan."

Thomas frowned as he crossed his arms. His nightmare had long ago faded from his mind, along with the fear for his safety. Now, as he sat in the brightly lit office, it seemed as though his head had cleared of the intrusive and irrational thoughts from before. Wicked wasn't so bad. At least, out of the simulation. Perhaps that's all his nightmare had been. A bad dream. Quietly, Thomas thought over Head Nurse Raven's words.

The Gladers were not ready for this. That much Thomas knew. With the way that everyone was fighting over releasing the footage or not, he wasn't really sure how they would react to his footage going missing. Especially Newt. With a sigh, Thomas finally nodded his head.

"Alright, I'll keep to myself," he stated with a frown. "On the condition that you keep me updated on everything that happens."

Head Nurse Raven nodded her head, staring at the floor as she thought. She had already planned on doing that, but there was no need to tell Thomas that, now was there?

"Very well, we have an agreement," she paused as she glanced at Nurse Megan, giving a small nod of the head. "Now, I know it's currently three O'clock in the morning, but we have pushed off your 'Check Up' much longer than we should have. Nurse Megan, if you would be so kind as to escort Dylan to Room Ten, I'd be most appreciative. Doctor Thompson will meet you there."

Nurse Megan eagerly rolled a wheelchair towards Thomas, quickly helping him out of his current chair and into the other one.

"Well, off we go!" She spoke up with a squeak, speedily pushing the wheelchair out of Nurse Raven's office and into the hallway. "I, for one, am glad that's over with. Honestly, you are a complete mess. And we really should have scheduled you for a checkup sooner than now, that's for sure. I can't believe Head Nurse Raven would just let you skip your first check up like that. Very unlike her, it is. Very much indeed. You know, I think she has a soft spot for you."

Thomas tuned out the chatty nurse, sinking lower in the seat as he leaned his head back and shut his eyes… He was so tired. His legs couldn't stop shaking and he was lightly panting for breath. He took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves as he was rolled along the hallway.

"Well, here we are," Megan's voice suddenly cut into his train of thought. "Are you ready?"

***Break line***

Thomas was not having a very good day.

For starters, Thomas woke up and found out that everything that had ever happened to him; everything he ever remembered doing, saying or feeling… _wasn't real_. That could confuse and scar just about anyone. But no, that's not where Thomas's day ended. A man from his life that _wasn't real_ had reappeared as his (_probably evil_) doctor, nearly giving him a _very_ real heart attack and sending him into a massive panic attack. Now, you'd think that all of what happened would be enough trauma for one day, right? Well, not for Thomas! Because now he'd been told that he'd have lasting medical issues from the things that _didn't actually happen_. Of course, he hadn't actually found out what those things were yet, but not to worry! Chatty Nurse Megan had assured him earlier, right as he was going into his checkup, to prepare himself for the worst... what a way to cheer someone up. And, let's not forget that everything _that didn't actually happen_ had, in fact, been recorded. And, of course, now his friends were all arguing over the stuff that _hadn't really happened_. _Oh_! And all his memories of things that _didn't actually happen_ had been stolen and could, possibly, be released into the world for everyone to see.

And now he was having vivid nightmares about things that _didn't actually happen_.

And now, here he sat at 4:00 AM, a very tall (_and very intimidating_) Doctor standing over him, staring down at a tiny clipboard with a very concerned expression upon his face.

_What a wonderful day._

"Well?" Thomas finally asked after a couple minutes of silence. Doctor Thompson gave a loud sigh, eyes still trained onto the tiny clipboard as he pulled up a rolling chair and heavily sat down. "What's wrong with me?"

"Man, what _isn't_ wrong with you, kid," Doctor Thompson muttered under his breath as he flipped over the pages on the clipboard. Doctor Thompson paused, eyes finally glancing up to meet Thomas's. With one last sigh, Doctor Thompson rolled over to Thomas and gave him a pat on the knee. "Well, I'm gonna tell you right now, it ain't pretty."

Thomas slowly nodded his head, eyes wide.

"For starters, I want you in a wheel chair at all times. That means you're going to have to have a Nurse push you around wherever you want to go, as well as helping you get in and out of your chair," The Doctor stated calmly.

"_What_? But I can walk, why do I need a wheelchair?" Thomas asked.

"Kid, you just ran down three hallways, jumped on a gurney and then pulverized someone into the ground _with_ said gurney, not to mention you then proceeded to get into a fist fight with a grown man," Doctor Thompson took a minute to pause, glancing over Thomas. "Do you know just how badly you've messed up your leg muscles? Not to mention all the strength in your arms that it took to lift you up and then propel yourself forward with enough force to knock someone to the ground."

"Yeah, but—"

"No buts," Doctor Thompson wiggled a finger disapprovingly in the air. "Besides, I'm not even finished yet."

He took a minute to glance back down at the notes he'd taken during Thomas's exam.

"Alright, you've got severe muscle atrophy, sleep deprivation, dehydration, a minor concussion from being _slammed_ to the ground and then repeatedly punched in the face, some minor cuts and bruises here and there… oh, geez, and that's not even _covering_ the emotional trauma you're experiencing right now. By the way, we can't test you for any of that tonight, as the Nurses are trained in the emotional garbage stuff and I mainly deal with the physical garbage," Doctor Johnson gave another sigh as he leaned back in the chair. "I'd say you'll probably be in the wheelchair for a long while, and Physical therapy as well as regular therapy are definitely on the list. Lots of liquids and sleep are required as well. Also… try to cut back on this entire "_hero_" complex you've got going on. Yeah, it'll get you the ladies but sooner or later, it's going to get you killed."

Thomas sat there numbly, trying to process everything the doctor had just spilled out. Minor concussion? Sleep deprivation? Emotional trauma? None of those things sounded all that appealing to Thomas. Of course, he could have guessed the Emotional Trauma bit. After what he and all the other Gladers had gone through, it would be a miracle if any one of them _didn't_ have some sort of Emotional Trauma. But severe muscle atrophy? No, Thomas wouldn't have guessed that one. Maybe minor, but severe? Not a chance.

Thomas forced back a yawn as he once again glanced at the clock, Doctor Thompson rolling around in the small room, putting everything back in it's place.

"I know it's already practically morning, but I highly suggest an extremely long nap," Doctor Thompson stated as he stood up, absentmindedly pulling out a small phone and rapidly typing into it. "Oh, and do you have any concerns? Like, are you having nightmares? Depressing thoughts? Maybe even a couple panic attacks here and there?"

Thomas stared up at the doctor, face blank as he reflected on his previous night.

"Nope, I'm good," Thomas stated with a small thumb up. The Doctor gave an unconvinced frown, heading back over to the desk and writing one last thing on the clipboard.

"Alrighty then, Nurse Vicky here will take you back to your room so you can get some shut eye," Doctor Thompson gave Thomas a firm shake of the hand, a kind smile playing on his lips. "Goodnight, kid."

Thomas didn't respond, instead opting to give a small wave as the Doctor left the room, a nurse with thick black hair and piercing grey eyes entering the room after him.

"Alright, Dylan," Nurse Vicky gave a cold smile. It was obvious she was none too thrilled to be up at four in the morning. "Let's get you back to your room."

**A/N: … well, obviously I lied a bit when I said I would update soon. I don't even know what happened! One minute, I was writing this story, and the next, months had passed and suddenly we were in July! :O But, a couple new reviews (that's you Guests) reminded me of this story, so I finished up this chapter and have gotten excited to write the next one… but we'll see when I update it. XD Maybe soon... maybe not... **

**Oh! Also, I kinda made a tumlr page for this story :P Just to give you guys random updates, if any of you wanted. Just remove the spaces and you're good to go! :) **

** www . tumblr blog / theendofthetrials**


	9. 9: What is Everyone Hiding

**Chapter Nine**

**What is everyone hiding?**

Thomas jolted up in his bed, hand grabbing at his heart, shoulders heaving as he gasped in gulps of air. _Wicked is bad. Wicked is bad_. He squeezed his eyes shut, pulling at his hair. Another horrific nightmare. This one about Grievers. He shook his head, the room spinning around him as he tried to calm down. _Wicked is bad. Wicked is bad._

It'd been days since his footage had been taken. Stolen, right from under Wickeds noses. So far, everyone had managed to keep it a secret. Not being allowed into the Shared Recovery Room for a couple days because of his concussion had helped on that bit. Still, with each passing day the anxiety that they might never retrieve every last memory he held of his life grew. The nightmares certainly didn't help with his paranoia on the matter either.

Finally, Thomas managed to gain control over his breathing, knees brought up to his chest as he slowly took deep breaths. In and out. _Wicked is bad. Wicked is bad_. In… and out… The flashing images of screaming Grievers faded from his mind, along with the voice hissing the warning. He ran a hand over his face, grimacing with a sigh. Today he'd be cleared to go back and see his friends, a situation he had mixed feelings about.

Where they all still fighting over the footage? His eyebrows knit together as he thought. His footage had been taken… and nobody else could know. What would Newt even say to Thomas if he were to find out what happened? What about Minho? It was messy, complicated, everyones emotions running high.

Thomas really couldn't catch a break, could he.

"Good morning, Dylan!" Nurse Megan opened the door, lights flooding the darkened room. Thomas hissed, covering his eyes as the Nurse waddled in, bringing with her a tray of breakfast. "The doctor said you could go sit with your friends today! Right after breakfast! Isn't that exciting? Sure, everyon' seems to be a tad anxious with each other—I would too if I was in your situation—"

Thomas swung his legs over the side of the bed, Nurse Megan stopping mid chat.

"Oh!" She humphed, setting the tray on the dresser with a clang as she marched over. She scooped Thomas's legs up, gently moving them back onto the bed. "Everyday you do this, Dylan. Honestly, when will you learn? You are not supposed to walk or stand on your legs—any further aggravation will surely cause damage—the doctor told you himself!"

Thomas pouted as the tray of breakfast was set non-too-gently upon his lap, preventing further movement. For now. One day soon, Thomas would walk again. He was unaccustomed to not being able to move about on his own, and it was a situation he assured himself would not last for long.

"Now, eat up and then we can head to see your friends," Nurse Megan grinned, pushing up her owl-like glasses. Thomas spared her a grin—though it looked more like a grimace, in Nurse Megans opinion, and quickly finished up his breakfast.

"Alright," Thomas drank the last of his milk, the glass clinking against the dishes as he set it back on the tray. "Let's go."

"_Brilliant_!" Nurse Megan squealed as she took the tray and helped Thomas into his chair. In seconds she'd zipped from out of his room and was practically flying down the hallway, mouth going nearly as fast as she was. "I say, Dylan—what a lovely day it is outside, wouldn't you agree? Perfect for a trip to the gardens, or up to the roof. Say, have you ever been to the roof before—lovely place! Bit too windy for my likings, but you can see the city off in the distance from up there! Course, I can't cause I'm blind as a bat, I am. But I'm sure you can."

"_Uh-huh_," Thomas nodded his head, half listening to her chatter.

"It is rather lovely in the sunroom up there though," Nurse Megan continued as they skidded around a corner. "Of course, it's a bit scary—as it's really tall and you can see all the way down to the ground floor if you lean over the edge—I haven't though cause I'm clumsy, silly ol' me. But there was this one patient from the girls wing, Kaya, I believe, who nearly fell. She was tryin' to see into the boys wing, I think—silly girl. Ever since the incident we keep the girl Divers and boy Divers separate. Anyway, I—"

"Wait!" Thomas shouted, the Nurse screeching to a halt.

"What? What is it! Did you see a rat?" Nurse Megan asked, leaning over as she searched the hallway.

"Girls wing?" Thomas asked, twisting around to look at her. "Did you say there was a girls wing—for girl divers?"

Nurse Megan stared at him, eyes narrowed as she crossed her arms.

"Yes—and boys like you aren't allowed so keep your mind outta the gutter, you hear?"

Thomas twisted back around, frowning as he thought. Was Teresa there? Brenda? Perhaps even some girls from Group B. He'd have to talk with Newt and Minho about this. Perhaps they could meet with Teresa and Brenda, maybe get some answers.

"Anyways, as I was sayin'," Nurse Megan continued down the hall. Thomas tuned the rest of her idles chatter out, giving her a half-minded 'thanks' as she rolled him into the Shared Recovery Room.

The atmosphere was thick as smoke, the room divided in half. On one side sat Newt. Alby, Gally, and a couple others Thomas recognized were sitting around each other, whispering amongst themselves. Thomas swung his head to the right, where Minho, Frypan and Ben sat. Minho was glaring daggers towards the other half of the room as Ben and Frypan conversed in hushed tones. It was an all out war zone, your fate lying with whichever side you chose.

Thomas gulped, scratching the back of his head. Would everyone turn on him when they found out about his footage? Honestly… he didn't know.

"Hey! Thomas, I want to talk with you," Minho called, shattering the silence. Thomas glanced to Newt, who stared right back. His lips were drawn into a tight line, a storm hiding just behind his eyes.

"Uh, yeah," Thomas called back, Nurse Megan stepping in and quickly rolling him towards his friends. "What's up?"

"Where have you been?" Minho hissed, leaning forward.

"I-I was just—" Thomas stuttered. Man, he really should have thought of an excuse to give before coming in here.

"It's been a mess without you here," Frypan added, glancing behind him to the other side of the room. "Everyone's freaking out, man."

"Sorry," Thomas frowned. Minho shook his head, running a hand through his hair as he leaned back in his wheelchair. "I had a uh, bunch of check-ups and stuff. Didn't feel like coming out here."

Ben grimaced, nodding his head. It was an understandable and reasonable excuse. After all, they all had check-ups they had to suffer through.

"Don't worry about it," Ben assured Thomas. "I get it."

Thomas flashed a brief smile, turning back to Minho.

"So, what's going on?"

Minho spared a moment to look past Thomas, stare hardening as he met eyes with Newt.

"Things have been pretty tense since we were told about releasing our footage," Minho began. "Nobody's done it yet—that I know of. But Newt's gathered a group of people who believe none of us should."

Thomas nodded his head.

"Thomas, they're all hiding something," Minho muttered. "The only reason someone wouldn't want to release their footage is if they were hiding something they didn't want the others to find out. And before you ask any questions, yes, that is the only reason. We've talked about it and it just doesn't make sense—not wanting others to release their footage just because you don't want the world to know about your life. It's not like people would know about your entire life, simply because they saw you from another Gladers point of view."

Thomas stifled a gulp, nodding his head. It made sense, in a way. And Thomas knew that it was closer to the truth than he would have liked. Thomas didn't want to release his footage because of Newt. He'd killed him. And they were the only two who knew about it. Newt, of course, didn't want to release his footage because he'd been a crank. But what about Gally? Why didn't he want to release his footage? Or even Alby?

"So?" Frypan broke the silence, Thomas snapping his attention to the older boy. Thomas frowned, looking around at the group.

"So… what?" He ventured.

"Are you with us or them?" Minho asked.

"Oh," Thomas stalled, clenching his fists. "Uh… I don't know."

"You don't know?" Minho narrowed his eyes.

"Come on, man," Thomas grunted, rubbing his eyes. "We're all in _wheelchairs_ for shucks sake. Am I not allowed to _not_ know my point of view on something for just a little while?"

"Right, no, you're right," Frypan concluded. "We'll give you time to decide."

"Thanks."

Silence fell, none of the boys knowing what to say.

"Minho, can I talk to you for a minute—over there," Thomas asked, nodding his head to an empty corner.

"Sure."

The boys rolled themselves over to the corner, Frypan and Ben sharing a look as they left.

"What's going on with you, man?" Minho asked. "First you awake from the simulation much later than anyone else. Then, you disappear for days, coming back with little to no explanation on why you disappeared for so long—and I don't buy the 'check-up' excuse."

Thomas frowned, nodding his head. Leave it to Minho to catch on.

"There's a girl's wing," Thomas stated. "And I think Teresa and Brenda might be there."

"You're kidding," Minho leaned forward, eyes wide. "You're positive?"

"Yeah, Nurse Megan mentioned it during one of her chatter-storms."

"Dang…" Minho whispered. "Well… what do you want to do about it?"

"I don't know," Thomas sighed, running a hand through his hair. "All of this is so complicated. The footage, the girls wing, Ratman being here! Wicked is hiding something… I don't know what but… I think…"

Thomas paused as he played back the vivid nightmares he'd had.

"I think," Thomas began again, voice low. "_Wicked is bad._"

Minho nodded his head, clasping his hands as he looked around the room.

"Okay," he muttered. "So, what if you're right. What if Wicked really is bad. What would the point of all this—"

He gestured to the recovery room, the nurses.

"—be for?"

"I don't know," Thomas shook his head. "Ever since Ratman showed up as my doctor things have seemed… off. They're hiding something, I know it."

"Right, well I'll keep my eye out," Minho supported a half smile. "We can't exactly escape while in this state, though. If we are going to bust out like we usually do, our legs gotta be ripe and ready for running."

"Yeah, I know," Thomas pursed his lips. "Hey, I'm going to head over and talk with Newt about all this. It's… nice to see him alive."

Minho stopped.

"Not a crank," Minho supplied.

"What?" Thomas asked. Minho narrowed his eyes.

"You mean 'it's nice to see him not a crank'," Minho stated, arms crossed.

"Yeah!" Thomas forced out. "Yeah, that's what I mean. Uh, catch you later."

Thomas spun his wheelchair around, eyes wide and lips grim. Crap, that'd been close. He'd have to keep a better control over his mouth next time. Quickly as he could, Thomas rolled himself away and over to Newt. Minho sat where he was, eyes narrowed as he thought.

"Thomas," Minho whispered to himself, shaking his head. "What are you hiding?"

_A/N: So, happy new year… Aaand, yeah, that's about it. Sorry this took so long to get out, like usual. I'm __**W**__ork__**I**__ng on getting better at writing these things, but it's diffi__**C**__ult with s__**KE**__wl an__**D **__such. Plus __**I**__ had a lot of per__**S**__onal issues and just… yikes. __**B**__ut __**A**__nyways, __**D**__o tell me what you thought of this chapter! :) Any theories on what's going on with Thomas? _


	10. 10: Strange encounters

Chapter 10

**Strange encounters...**

"Dylan, I'm sorry," Head Nurse Raven pinched the bridge of her nose. Thomas sat across from her, the large oak desk separating them. "We have _everything_ going into searching for your footage."

"And there hasn't been anything?" Thomas pressed, leaning forward. "No clues, no suspects, _nothing_?"

"As my job as Head Nurse, those are things for _me_ to worry about," Head Nurse Raven sighed, glancing over the many files and papers on her desk. "If the circumstances allowed it, you wouldn't even know. You'd be on your own, with your friends, recovering. Like you're _supposed_ to be doing."

Thomas frowned, crossing his arms over his chest. "Well, It's _my_ footage so—"

"Dylan, _enough_!" Head Nurse Raven snapped. Nurse Megan, who was standing in the corner of the office, gave a gasp. "You aren't the savior of the world anymore—stop trying to be."

"I'm not—believe me, I'm not." Thomas scowled, turning away. Nurse Megan gently walked up, grabbing the handles to his wheel chair and gently turning him away. Thomas looked over his shoulder, Head Nurse Raven already resuming the paperwork stacked high on her desk.

"Oh, Dylan," Nurse Megan sighed as she shut the door behind her, rolling Thomas out into the hallway. "Head Nurse is just stressed—don't let her get ya' down! She's been dealing with a lot, you know. Like Head Nurse's are supposed to do. Why, not only does she have to find your footage but she has to make sure everybody's doing what they're supposed to—she keeps us all in check, she does!"

"Yeah, whatever," Thomas rolled his eyes, leaning back in the chair. "Can we just go to the Shared Recovery room?"

"Oh, right-o Dylan!" Nurse Megan chirped. Without a moment to lose she was zipping through the corridors again, Thomas gripping the arm rests as they sped around a corner. "Say, Dylan! They've got TV's in you're shared recovery room—have ya watched any of the programs? Course, they're all about you and the other divers. After all, you're a hot topic right now. What with saving the world and all! You should be very proud of yourself!"

Thomas frowned, saying nothing. Nurse Megan didn't notice—after all, she was too busy talking to notice Thomas's dour mood.

"I say!" Nurse Megan continued. "Why not go up to the roof? Or maybe even take a trip in the gardens? I hear they're very relaxing. Of course, I know you want—"

Nurse Megan let out a squeal, digging the heals of her shoes into the ground as a dark figure sprinted around the corner. _Thomas gave a yelp as the wheelchair tipped over the darkened figure, sending him rolling down the hallway. As quickly as his muscles allowed, Thomas struggled to get up. The figure was laying underneath the wheelchair, groaning as he held his head. _

Thomas stopped, blinking. This was familiar. This scene was familiar. His heart pounded, hands grasping along the ground for something—his box. _He needed his box._ _The figure was going to take it—steal it!_

Thomas froze, hands outstretched. He shook his head, looking around. No, his box was gone. Already stolen. The figure—the masked thief, had gotten away.

"_Oh my stars_!" Nurse Megan was crying as she struggled to get the wheelchair off the man, hands trembling. "Dr. Janson—I'm so sorry! Goodness me, i-I wasn't looking where I was going—"

Thomas swallowed thickly, eyes swirling up to find Dr. Janson struggling to his feet, wheel chair rolling across the floor.

"Ah," Dr. Janson smiled, ignoring the apologies of the nurse as he took a step towards Thomas, hand outstretched. "I'm sorry, Thomas. Here, let me help you up."

"You get away from me!" Thomas snarled, scrambling away. His back cracked up against the wall, limbs shaking from the strain.

"_Dylan_!" Nurse Megan slid across the floor, landing next to him. Her glasses were askew, eyes brimming with water as she fussed over him. "How many fingers am I holding up? Do you see any stars? _What's your name?_!"

"Madam, I believe he's fine," Dr. Janson gave a small smile, taking a step away from Thomas. "Banged up, yes. But concussed, no."

Nurse Megan nodded her head, wiping at her eyes as she stood up. With a force Thomas didn't know Nurse Megan possessed, the woman scooped him up and set him back in his wheelchair.

"I'm sorry if I frightened you, Thomas," Dr. Janson bent down, picking up a clipboard that had been thrown to the floor upon impact. "It was not my intention."

Thomas sat stiff as a board, eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. His fists were shaking, a look one could only describe as pure rage dancing across his face.

"What do you want, _Ratman_?" Thomas growled. Dr. Janson's eyes widened, Nurse Megan's hands shaking as she gripped Thomas's wheelchair.

"Dylan—please," Nurse Megan whimpered. "_Don't anger him_."

"_Hmm_," Dr. Janson hummed, looking down at his file, ignoring Nurse Megan's comment. "I don't want anything from _you_, Thomas. Not this time, at least."

Dr. Janson looked up, smiling once more.

"_However_," he took a step forward, Nurse Megan squeaking as she quickly rolled Thomas back. "You could tell me something—something I find important."

Thomas leaned forward with a snarl.

"Oh? And what's that?" He spit out.

"I'm looking for a couple of your friends," Dr. Janson looked down at the clipboard. "If you could tell me where Ben, Frankie, Jeff, Newt, and Winston are… I'd be most appreciative."

"Go to—" Thomas was cut off, Nurse Megan taking long strides to stand in front of him. Her legs were shaking, glasses still not on quiet right and her hair was frazzled.

"Dr. Janson," she squared her shoulders, balling her fists. Her voice quivered as she spoke. "Please step away f-from my patient. He-he doesn't wish to see you."

Dr. Janson narrowed his eyes, staring down at the nurse with his nose stuck in the air.

"Very well," he looked past her to meet eyes with Thomas. "I apologize once more for running into you. It was not my intention."

And with that the slimy doctor was off down the hall, pace just as quick as before he'd crashed into them.

"Whew," Nurse Megan wiped her brow with a cloth, hands trembling. She gave a nervous chuckle, turning around to Thomas with a strained smile. "I, uh… I-I don't much care for Dr. Janson. He's a strange man with strange hobbies and strange… _interests_, in others."

She swallowed, heels clicking against the floor as she walked around Thomas and began pushing him once more. "I'm sorry I didn't stand up for you sooner. Truth is, he frightens me."

Thomas was silent, fists clenched as he drilled holes into the wall with his stare. Something was off about their encounter. Something Thomas couldn't quiet put his finger on…

**A/N: Well, this was originally supposed to be part of what's coming in chapter 11, but I figured this was enough for Chapter 10. Especially for the point I wanted to make. :) I realize it's a bit short, but it didn't fit with what I have planned for the next chapter. I hope you enjoyed! **


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